


waves crashing

by shuttermutt



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-19 14:19:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2391488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuttermutt/pseuds/shuttermutt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"You're not supposed to be in here," Zayn says. She's not an art student. </i>
</p><p>  <i>"I can go if you want."</i></p><p>  <i>"It's fine, I guess. Just don't bother me, okay?" Zayn is much smoother when he's given a chance to prepare himself. He's so out of his element here.</i></p><p>  <i>She smiles and curls up on the windowsill again. "Yeah, okay. I'm Harry, by the way." Her eyes are wide and green and Zayn's fingers itch for a palette.</i></p><p>  <i>"Zayn."</i></p><p>  <i>"I know." Harry laughs and turns to stare back out the window, leaving Zayn speechless.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	waves crashing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [words_unravel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/words_unravel/gifts).



> Thanks to K for the beta. Hope this is all right!
> 
> Prompt: _genderswap uni au w/ either girl!harry or girl!zayn based on[this](http://38.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_md6utqhYzH1qh787go1_500.png) pic_

Zayn picks his way through the green, trying to finish the last few paragraphs of his final paper in time to print it off a the print lab. He has no clue why he put it off so long--he had a full month and a half to do it, but it somehow got lost on his to-do list. He was focusing on other projects and concentrating on working with his thesis advisor on what he would be working towards next term. Now, with thirty minutes until he has to hand it in, he's rushing to get the last paragraph done. It's not his best work, he knows, but he's done worse and gotten good grades for it. This will just have to do. Besides, his professor will definitely forgive him if he doesn't get perfect marks on this, since he's doing really well overall in the class, and he's one of the few that actually participates and has something to say other than 'I agree'.

Zayn is just saving the document when something catches his eye. He stops where he is on the corner of the Arts building and Classroom Building 2 and looks up. He'd known about the market on the green, of course. It was hard to get away from all the reminders and announcements on Facebook and Twitter. Plus, Zayn's roommate's girlfriend was heavily involved in it or something. But he'd never actually gone. Fresh markets were something really dear to him, something his mum used to take him along to do when he was back home and little, holding her basket while she haggled over the price of greens and fresh meat. There's no way it'll be the same here as it was for Zayn as a child, so he doesn't want to ruin that memory.

But something has caught his eye and he can't look away now, even though he has to run to the lab to print his paper or he'll be late and won't get to turn it in at all.

There's a girl idling by the organic honey stand, listening to the guy there and nodding like he's got all the secrets to the world. She's cute, long curly hair tumbling down her back, short cut offs and a crop top that shows altogether more skin than Zayn is used to on this campus, especially at this time of year. He shivers just looking at her. She's got smudges of tattoos down her arms and ribs and he can see something dark on her thigh, but he can't make it out at this distance.

Zayn's never seen her before, but that's not unusual. It's a fairly large university and he's not met the great majority of the on-campus population, unless he counts all the people he's met through his mate Niall's parties. Then he might know everyone. She's his type, though. Curvy and maybe just a bit shorter than him. He wants to go over and chat, but he really will miss his opportunity to turn his paper in if he does. There's no way he'll take that loss in points. His grade couldn't handle it.

He spares one more glance at her and then shuts his laptop and tears off for the print lab. Thank fuck it's near his next class or he would be fucked.

-

After that, Zayn is bogged down in tedious finals. He's never been so busy. That joke about second years never seeing the light of day wasn't much of a joke, was it. Thankfully, it's over soon enough and he's got winter hols to spend with his family back home. He's missed them, and it's a much needed break.

He packs his stuff into two duffel bags the day before break begins and pops his head into his roommate's room to tell him to have a safe holiday and then he's off. Two busses and three trains later, he's back home where he belongs, wrapped in his mum's hugs and munching on the samosas she's kept hidden just for him.

-

Zayn returns to university two days before classes begin again, just to get himself sorted and prepared for diving back into academia. He's reading for fine arts and art history. He probably could have done a lot less and been less stressed, overall, but this is what he wanted. It means he can work with his hands and create art and it also means he can work in something like a museum or gallery while he's pursuing his own art.

He goes to his assigned studio block the day before classes, to give himself a day to just paint whatever he wants before he has strict guidelines and timetables for his classes and has no time to do any of his own work. There's usually not many people there the day before classes, since they're trying to get as much freedom in while they can, but Zayn spots a few people he recognises, working on their theses frantically to get them done. Zayn knows he's going to be one of those people soon. He unlocks the door to the studio he shares with three other people and stops.

There's someone sitting on the windowsill, looking down at the few people walking along the green. Zayn squints at her. He's seen her before, but he's not sure where. It clicks when she turns and glances at him curiously, curls tumbling down over her sun-kissed shoulder. It's the girl from the fresh market.

"You're not supposed to be in here," Zayn says. She's not an art student. He would know her if she was, especially since this studio is for second and third years for the fine arts course only, and they're a pretty small group this term.

She smiles. "My friend uses this studio and he gave me a key since he's usually shit at not losing things. It looked like a nice place to relax."

Zayn doesn't quite know what to say. That's a really weird answer to give. "There are plenty of places to relax that aren't my studio," he finally says. He isn't trying to be rude, and thinking back on it, he did want to chat her up at the fresh market if he'd had the time. But he's out of his element--the studio is where he goes to unwind and create without having to worry about anyone judging him or thinking he's weird.

"I'm sorry. I can go if you want." She moves so that her legs are dangling over the ledge of the sill and Zayn can get a proper look of the tattoo on her thigh, since she's inexplicably wearing shorts again. There was snow three days ago, how is she not freezing? The oversized jumper and scarf are at serious odds with the shorts. It's a bouquet of flowers, which Zayn isn't really surprised about. There's all different sorts and he even spots a little bird hiding among the blooms.

"It's fine, I guess. Just don't bother me, okay?" Zayn is much smoother when he's given a chance to prepare himself. He's so out of his element here.

She smiles and curls up on the windowsill again. "Yeah, okay. I'm Harry, by the way." Her eyes are wide and green and Zayn's fingers itch for a palette.

"Zayn."

"I know." Harry laughs and turns to stare back out the window, leaving Zayn speechless.

-

"That's really nice. I like the colour."

Zayn jumps, brush smearing over the pansy he was painting. After the first few minutes of awkward silence that hung in the studio after Harry turned away, Zayn got himself busy. He isn't doing anything great, nothing he can show off in class, but he's playing with his colour palette, trying for new ways to combine two colours at once. He hadn't even noticed Harry get down off her perch and walk over, he'd been concentrating so hard.

"Uh. Thanks." 

Harry smiles at him. "My mate who paints here, he said you were really good. Professors all like you. You're going to be the next big thing."

Zayn can feel his cheeks heating up. He's not great at praise. "It's not that serious," he mumbles.

"Shy, huh?" Harry has a wicked smile and Zayn sort of wants to paint it. A slash of red and pink and black, wide and clever.

"I guess." Zayn looks back at his canvas, at the different blossoms and bouquets he's painted over the last hour or so. He has no clue why he decided on flowers. That's a lie, he does know. He just doesn't want to admit he's got what amounts to a juvenile crush on some weird girl he's seen twice and spoken to once.

Harry reaches out and grabs Zayn's hand, the one with the brush in it. "Well, tell you what, Mr. 'it's not that serious'. Here's my number. If you ever want to hang out or whatever, you should text me." She writes on Zayn's arm with a thick tipped sharpie, carefully writing out the numbers with her tongue poked out the side of her mouth.

Zayn looks down at his arm, at her number and the little ;) after it. "Uh."

"See ya!" Harry presses a kiss to his cheek and leaves the studio, leaving Zayn just as flummoxed and ruffled as when he saw her in the first place.

-

After, when Zayn is cleaning up his space and washing off his brushes, he makes sure to be careful not to smear her number off his arm. He's not sure what he's going to do with it, yet, but he doesn't want to lose the opportunity before he's even decided one way or another.

-

Zayn ends up sending a text to harry at a little after three in the morning, two weeks into classes. He hasn't seen her at the studio or around campus, even though he's been keeping an eye out for her. She must be studying something situated away from all his regular haunts and he doesn't feel secure enough to go wandering around looking for someone he doesn't even know. He doesn't want to be creepy or whatever.

He stares at his phone for the longest time before just typing out 'hi :)x' and hitting send. He presses his phone to his chest and looks up at the poster of Batman he's got taped to the ceiling. That's fine. It's not aggressive or weird or anything. Just a simple greeting.

Zayn lets his eyes close, slowly relaxing back into his bed sheets. He's exhausted, been working on a self-portrait for advanced studio techniques that's been bothering him to no end, on top of his other coursework. This semester doesn't seem to be letting up any at all.

He's just thinking about the shape of his nose in his painting, drifting off to sleep, when he remembers something and bolts up, phone flying. It's only been fifteen minutes, but he realises he didn't sign his text and there's no way for Harry to know who he is, since _she's_ the one who gave him her number. He curses and rolls over to try to find his phone on the ground. It's somehow buried under a pile of dirty clothes, even though that defies all logic. He unlocks it and types out,

'this is zayn x'

before hitting send and sighing. There's absolutely no reason Zayn should be stressing over this as much as he is. Harry is just a girl. Yeah, she's cute, but Zayn has never really had a problem talking to girls, or even pulling them. He's shy and quiet, but most people take that to think he's deep and brooding, which works for him when it comes to getting attention from people he fancies. They get to know him and realise he's not all that mysterious, just sort of awkward. 

He gets a text back almost immediately.

'hey zayn. glad you decided to text me. thought i might have put you off'

Zayn smiles.

'no just been really busy with coursework. you? x'

The phone buzzes just as quickly back and they text back and forth until Zayn can see the grey light of dawn behind his curtains. Fuck, he didn't mean to do that. He really did need to sleep before classes, but Harry is funny and charming and actually interesting. She's in the middle of telling him a story about one of her law professors not realising he had toilet roll on his shoe for an entire lecture and how Harry couldn't stop laughing, so she had to disguise it as coughing and he'd actually told her off. Or that's what Zayn thinks happens, since Harry tends to wander around stories and topics with no rhyme or reason. It'd started off as a conversation about favourite movies and somehow ended up with the loo roll story and Harry wondering whether or not he liked coffee.

His phone buzzes against his stomach.

'shit. just realised how late it is. or early i suppose. i need to get some sleep before my lecture. see you at two for coffee?'

Zayn blinks down at the message. Had they agreed to go get coffee? He doesn't remember doing that. Then again, the whole night seems to be a bit of a sleep-deprived blur.

'sounds good. x'

-

Zayn is antsy throughout his lecture for Classical artists. He's gotten to really like this class, and he adores the professor, since he's had her for two other lectures. He can't stop thinking about Harry, though. Is it a date? Had they agreed to go out on a date? What if he doesn't look good, or he yawns while she's talking because he's so tired? What if he's too boring for her and she decides never to talk to him again? What if—

"Mr. Malik, I know I'm devastatingly attractive _and_ a great teacher, but class did end five minutes ago, so you might want to leave."

Zayn bolts up out of his seat and looks around. He and Ms. Sanders are the only ones left in the room. “Ah! Sorry, sorry, I’ll see you Thursday.”

Ms. Sanders looks amused as Zayn rushes to throw his stuff into his bag before running from the room. The coffee place he and Harry are meeting at isn't too far away, but he wants to get there before her so he can calm down a bit and prepare himself mentally.

The girl behind the counter nods at Zayn when he comes in. It's a cool little non-chain coffee shop by one of the book stores on campus and Zayn swings by whenever he has the time to get coffee to go for his studio time. He likes it. Soft, low music plays over the speakers and all the patrons are usually too busy reading, studying or working on assignments to make much noise.

Harry isn't there yet, which Zayn is thankful for. It gives him a few minutes to get his breathing back to regular and order a drink before sitting down at a table and failing not to fidget. Zayn is not the type of person to fidget, by nature, but he's ridiculously nervous that he's going to mess up and Harry's just going to laugh at him and never speak to him again. He doesn't want that.

He looks up each time the door opens and smiles a bit when Harry finally walks through. She's wearing proper clothes for the weather, tight black jeans and a baggy jumper with what looks like a hand-knitted scarf and beanie pulled over her curls. She looks around the shop for a moment before spotting Zayn and coming over, smile already stretched across her face. Her cheeks are a bit pink from the wind, or maybe from the sudden change to warmth, or maybe she's just as excited to see Zayn as Zayn is to see her.

"Hey," Harry says. She leans over to kiss him on the cheek. "Lemme just order something real quick, okay? I'll be right back."

Zayn doesn't get to say anything before Harry is going to the counter, chatting with the barista and laughing at something she says. Zayn doesn't really get it. Harry is so outgoing and personable, able to make friends with everyone she sets her gaze on. There doesn't seem to be an ounce of self-doubt in her.

Harry comes back with a large, steaming mug and a plate with a huge muffin on it. "Cranberry orange," she says, setting it down between them. "Susannah says they're great." She sips at her drink and looks over the rim of her mug at Zayn, eyes practically dancing. "Hey," she says again.

"Hi." Zayn rubs his thumb against the table. "Glad you could make it."

Harry puts her mug down and she's smiling again, dimple popped out on her cheek. "Of course. I wouldn't miss this for the world."

-

They spend a few hours in the coffee shop, and Zayn learns a lot more about Harry. She's from a little village in Cheshire and she has an older sister, a mum and a step dad and she's originally called Harriet, "but don't call me that, it's so old-fashioned". She worked at a bakery during secondary school and she chose to read for law because she wanted to better the world. Zayn tells her about his sisters and his mum and dad and the little house they all live together in, and how he really just wants to create art for the rest of his life and he doesn't care how successful or unsuccessful he is, but he wants to make enough money to buy his family a house that they own instead of renting. Zayn's loved art his whole life and his older sister and dad are amazingly talented as well, so he's always been immersed in it.

During their conversation, they migrate from the table to the lumpy couch in the corner of the shop. It's the best place to sit and read and relax, and Zayn finds himself sitting closer to Harry than he normally would. He just feels really comfortable with her. She's funny and talks slowly, like she's trying to choose her words carefully, but most of her stories don't really make a lot of sense. She's kind, though. Zayn can tell that by the way she talks about her family and her goals after she's awarded her degree. It's admirable.

Both of their mugs have been empty for ages, and the muffin was devoured pretty quickly between them, but Zayn doesn't think he's the only one who's been lingering. They've been quiet for a few minutes, just sitting in comfortable silence next to one another. Zayn's hand is close to Harry's thigh, close enough to feel the heat off of her. He wants to touch her, hold her hand, kiss her pink mouth until it's swollen.

"I don't think I ever told you how much I liked this," Harry says as she reaches out to touch the blond swirl in his hair.

“My ex did it for me on a whim when she was doing her hair. Thought it looked cool, so I kept it.”

She laughs. "Looks a bit like an ice cream swirl. It really suits you."

Zayn scowls, but he doesn't mean it. "Ice cream swirls suit me, then?"

Harry's still laughing as she nods. "Yeah, definitely. You're definitely an ice cream boy."

"Idiot."

Zayn's cheeks feel hot and his heart is being faster than the situation warrants. Harry's flirting, maybe, but not enough to make him this flustered. He's such a mess.

"Hey," Harry says. It's not the same drawn-out way she says it when he's teasing her. Zayn looks over at her and she's leaning in closer. "I'm really glad you texted me," she says softly. She's so close to Zayn that he can smell the sweet scent of vanilla on her skin, almost taste whatever chapstick she has on.

"Me, too." Zayn can't stop looking at Harry's mouth, how plush and full her bottom lip is, the cupid's bow of her top lip. He wants to kiss her so bad.

"You're not a bad boy at all, are you?" Harry murmurs. Her lips quirk up into a smile before she leans in to kiss Zayn.

Zayn's been with girls that like to take charge and girls that like for him to make the decisions. He's never been with a girl who seems as carefree as Harry is. Sure, girls he's met at clubs and pubs have kissed him if they're dancing together or everyone's had a drink, but he's never had a friend--is Harry a friend? Zayn wants her to be--just kiss him so abruptly like that.

Or maybe it's not abruptly at all, since Zayn wanted to do it, too.

He closes his eyes and pulls Harry in, so that he's resting against the arm of the couch and Harry is hovering over him. Harry's lips are soft and they open willingly when Zayn licks over them. She tastes like coffee and the muffin they shared and Zayn wants to lick inch every inch of her to find out how she tastes everywhere.

Someone whistles and Harry pulls away. Her cheeks are red and her lips are wet and a bit swollen, even from just one long kiss. She looks at him so openly.

"Was that okay? I've wanted to do that since I first saw you."

"You've only seen me once, before today," Zayn says.

Harry shakes her head and smiles. "No, I saw you before that. Last term, before winter break. I was at the fresh market and I saw this beautiful guy running around with a laptop, looking frantic. He was so gorgeous and I wanted to say hi to him, but he didn't even seem to notice me and he just kept running. I asked my friends if they'd ever seen that guy around, and they told me it was you. That's why I was in your studio before term started. I wanted to meet you."

"Really?" Zayn feels stunned. So she'd noticed him? At the same time he was noticing her?

"Really." Harry bites her bottom lip and then licks over it. "Do you want to come back to my dorm?"

Zayn wants.

-

Harry's room is cluttered with a lot of books and posters and clothes everywhere. Zayn isn't really surprised to see a yoga mat and candles all over the desk. Harry seems the type. He's distracted from looking around more by the way Harry pulls him along while she falls back onto her bed. Zayn ends up crouched over her, staring down at her red cheeks and wide smile.

"Is this okay?" she asks. Her eyes are so wide and so green.

Zayn nods. "You don't have to keep asking. I want to do whatever you want."

"I really want you to kiss me again."

Zayn does what she asks, leaning down to kiss Harry properly now that he's not so surprised. She opens her mouth easily under his and Zayn takes his time tasting her, touching her everywhere he can. She's got the soft, smooth gaps where her wisdom teeth once were. Zayn has never wanted to know every single thing about a person's mouth before, but he does now. He wants to know if she's ever had braces or if she likes electric tooth brushes over regular ones. He wants to know what brand mouthwash she uses. It's stupid he's thinking about this while he's kissing her, but he can't help it.

"You're a really good kisser," Harry says. It's such an innocent thing to say and Zayn can't help but grin at her.

"Not so bad yourself."

Harry laughs. "You're so lame," she says. 

"Hey, now. You're the one saying weird stuff." Zayn pretends to scowl, but Harry just laughs again. Zayn likes that she laughs so much. He loves when sex is easy, when people are easy. He likes when it's fun and playful and everyone gets to laugh and have a good time.

"It's not weird." Harry puts her hands on Zayn's shoulders, slides them down his arms until her fingers are circled around his wrists. "Can I see you? Without clothes?"

Zayn shivers. "Yeah, okay."

He sits up and takes his button down off, then his shirt and starts to work on his jeans. Harry lifts her jumper up from the bottom, pulling it up over her head and dislodging her beanie and scarf. Zayn laughs when he realises they haven't even taken their outerwear off yet.

Harry pouts. "Why are you laughing at me?" Her hair is a mess from being stuffed under the beanie and Zayn can't stop from running his fingers through it, fixing her curls while she stares up at him in her bra and jeans. There's goose bumps on her arms and over her stomach.

"I'm not, I promise."

Zayn finishes taking off his boots and jeans and lets them drop to the floor with his pile of clothes. He's left in his boxers and he sits back and watches as Harry undoes her bra, holding the cups while she slides the straps down off her arms. She takes it off and puts her arms down by her side, just watching Zayn look at her. Her tits are full and round, nipples big and dusky. She's got no tan lines but her skin is golden so she must sunbathe in the nude. The thought makes Zayn's cock twitch in his shorts and Harry can see if she looks, but he doesn't try to hide it.

"You're really beautiful," he says.

She undoes the button on her jeans and skims down the zipper, still watching him. "You're the one I should be calling beautiful. Look at you."

Zayn flushes from the praise. He's vain, to a certain extent, but it feels good to be complimented by Harry. "Let me help," he says, getting his fingers through her belt loops and tugging her jeans down. It's not easy, since they're so tight, but there's something really erotic about watching Harry's legs emerge from the tight denim. Like he's seeing something secret, even though he's already seen it before.

Harry's knickers match the bra she was wearing, light pink with a white bow in the centre. Her belly is quivering a bit and Zayn's not sure if it's because it's a little chilly in the room or because he's looking at her. She really is gorgeous, though, with her thick thighs and the soft padding at her hips and over her stomach. Her waist dips in at the sides and Zayn follows the line of her up from her hips to her breasts with his hand.

"Tickles," Harry mumbles, closing her eyes. Her legs are spread open around Zayn, and he can see that her knickers are damp already and he feels dizzy. 

"Sorry," he says softly. He leans down and kisses the hollow of her throat, licks down to her sparrows so he can kiss them, too. Harry slides her fingers through his hair but doesn't pull as he rubs his thumbs across her nipples. They tighten under his touch and he watches the way her chest starts to go up and down quicker as her breathing picks up. He licks over her left nipple while he pinches the right one, getting it nice and wet before biting it gently.

“Oh,” Harry breathes out. 

She arches her back so he can take more of her in his mouth, but he just concentrates on her nipple, getting it wet and stiff and then pulling back to breathe cold air over it while Harry shivers. He switches to the other one and gives it the same treatment, sitting back after he’s done so he can look.

Her nipples are so tight and red from his mouth, shiny wet in the light from her bedside table. They look really good, so Zayn cups her breasts again, rolling her nipples between his fingers while Harry gasps.

“Zayn, it feels really good,” she says, voice all honey-thick and lazy with arousal. “Can I take my knickers off? They’re too wet, it’s cold.”

Zayn looks down and she’s right. She’s soaked through the cotton material and Zayn can see her cunt right through them. “Oh, you really liked that, huh?”

“ _Zayn_ ,” she whines.

“Okay, yeah, sorry.” Zayn carefully grabs onto the elastic of her knickers, pulling them down and helping Harry get them all the way off. She doesn’t close her legs and hide herself from him, even though he really can see everything now.

Harry’s not shaved all the way, just close cropped. Her pubic hair is dark and Zayn presses his nose into it, inhaling her scent. It’s so hot and damp and musky here; smells so good that Zayn has to get a hand around his cock to keep himself from coming too soon.

“You’re really dirty,” Harry says.

Zayn looks up while he’s still breathing her in. Harry doesn’t look disgusted or put-off. The flush on her cheeks has spread down her throat and chest. He doesn’t bother replying, just uses his fingers to spread her open, so he can see her. Her cunt is so wet and pink and her clit is swollen above where she’s so open.

“You really like it,” he says, not taking his eyes away from her. He leans in for a taste, just a quick one. He wants to feel it against his mouth.

Harry’s thighs are shaking, so Zayn holds onto them with both hands, spreading her legs apart more so he can keep looking at her. She tastes really good, salty and a bit sweet, like she’s been eating a lot of pineapple. Zayn could spend all night tasting her, feeling her against his tongue. Her arsehole looks appetizing, too, pink and tight and quivering when he runs his tongue over it.

“Can you put it in?” Harry asks, voice shaky now.

“Put what in?”

“Your cock. I want you to fuck me.”

Zayn does look up at that. He wasn’t sure if Harry wanted to do that today. “Yeah?”

“I really want you to.”

“Okay.” Zayn watches as Harry leans over and pulls a condom out of her bedside drawer. He takes it from her and holds onto it while he sits up and gets his boxers off. His cock is heavy and full, bobbing up to his stomach. He’s already so wet, dripping down. The head is shiny and red and he watches Harry look at it, hungry. He wants to put it in her mouth, wants her to suck him off and tongue his slit, but they can do that later.

Zayn opens the wrapper and holds his cock steady while he rolls the condom down. He just holds himself after he’s done, trying to compose himself so he doesn’t come as soon as he puts it in. He’s done it before and it’s too embarrassing. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Harry, just because he wants it so much.

“Zayn,” Harry says, snapping him out of it.

“Is it okay like this? I want to watch it go in.” He’s already getting between her legs, pulling them to wrap around his waist so she’s in his lap and he can watch as he rubs the head of his cock against her.

“Yeah.”

Zayn pushes in just a bit, just so the head pops in, so he can watch the way her cunt stretches around his cock. He’s thick, but she sucks him in like she’s as hungry for it as he is. He feeds his cock in slowly, watches in fascination as his cock disappears into Harry’s body. She’s so wet that he just slides in, no hesitation. 

They’re both quiet as Zayn starts to fuck Harry, just rolling thrusts because he doesn’t have the best leverage from the position they’re in. It doesn’t matter since he gets to watch the way his cock goes in and out of Harry’s cunt. The wet sounds of him filling her up are the only thing he can hear above her sharp breathing. She feels so good around him, tight and hot. She keeps squeezing around his cock and it’s so much.

Zayn uses his thumb to rub Harry’s swollen clit, watching the way Harry’s hips arch up sharply when he starts to rub her. Her cunt gets even tighter and he knows she’s close, can tell by the way her thighs keep shaking. He’s sweating, feels it dripping down his back, and she is too. Her whole body is shining with it. 

“Zayn!” Harry gasps his name as she comes, closing down tight around his cock. 

He can feel her pulsing around him, tighter and looser and tighter again. Zayn sits up so he can thrust into Harry properly, fucking her greedily so he can come too. It doesn’t take very long, with how much he’s been wanting it. He fills the condom and has to take a few moments after to catch his breath again.

After he’s gotten his composure back, Zayn pulls out slowly and takes the condom off, tying it and throwing it in the general area of the trash can he saw earlier. He flops down onto the bed beside Harry, watching her.

“Was that okay?” he asks. He wants to reach out and touch her, hold her hand. Get some connection.

Harry rolls onto her side and looks at him. Her cheeks are still red. “Yeah, that was really good.” She links her fingers with his and puts them on his chest so they can both feel his pounding heart.


End file.
